


Curiosity Punished

by mysterious_song



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pandora’s box AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterious_song/pseuds/mysterious_song
Summary: He’d been having the same dream since he was a child. Some nights he’d feel terror, running from creatures he never believed could exist. Some nights he’d be surrounded by friends who were in the exact same situation as he was. And some nights he’d be lost in grief, watching tragic events unfold and watching helplessly as everything he held dear was destroyed.Regardless of where he was in the dream, the story would always be the same.The end of the world.His parents had been concerned about his night terrors, had put him through numerous therapists to try and bring him out of the cycle. They’d told him it was nothing to worry about; it was completely normal to have recurring dreams. They reflected a psychological issue; it was not a prophecy of the future.But Robin knew better.After all, if it really was a ‘psychological issue’, then why were his dreams coming true?
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Curiosity Punished

It’s strange. 

There are many things that can bring a group of people together; working in the same office, going to the same school, living on the same street, mutual friendships... 

Creating a plan to stop the end of the world, however, is not how Robin pictured he’d acquire his friendship group. 

But here they are. 

They practically live in this warehouse. It’s got electricity, water, some furnishings they’ve bought along the way… Robin had inherited it from his Uncle - along with some hefty funds and a raging sense of inadequacy - and so he thought he may as well get  _ some _ use out of it. 

They have an entire wall set up with all their research; drawings, book pages, post its… Anything they could find that could possibly relate to Robin’s dreams - which is not a whole lot. 

The creatures he sees are like nothing he’s ever known. The cave built into cliffs could be from almost any location. The mysterious woman standing in front of a glowing vase could be literally  _ anyone _ . But they’ve listed all they can, any possible lead gathered from libraries, newspapers, online conspiracy theorists… 

And now they’re stuck. 

“We need a breakthrough,” John Little sighs, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms. 

Will Scarlett scoffs - not one to even attempt filtering his words - and quips: “Ya think?” 

Robin glances around the table at the 5 people who’ve practically given up their lives to help him work this out. All of them are completely and understandably frustrated over the lack of progress they’re making. Sometimes Robin wishes he’d never gotten them involved in this; it’s so consuming...

“Is there nothing else you can remember from your dreams?” 

Robin turns to look at Brian Tuck with a slight glare.  _ Does he really think he’d be keeping anything to himself?  _ “I told you; I’ve not seen anything new for weeks.” 

Alan slaps his thighs and stands up. “Well, in that case, I’m gonna go out, get a bottle of vodka, and we’re all going to get plastered. Alright?” 

There are nods from around the table, Will’s comment of “ _ Got nothing better to do… _ ” mixing with John’s “ _ Why not _ ?”.

Robin, however, shakes his head. “You guys go ahead; I need to find something else…” 

“Maybe you just need a break?” Brian puts his hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Have a drink with us, things might come easier when you're a bit more relaxed.” 

Robin has to admit; the sound of having a few drinks with his friends sounds infinitely better than trawling through his wall of crazy for the umpteenth time. 

“Get me some whiskey,” he relents, fishing through his wallet for some cash. “You drink cheap vodka. It’s horrible.” 

“Any particular kind?” 

“Something Scottish. And not peaty,” Robin answers. “Glenfiddich or something like that.” 

“Gotcha.” Alan takes the notes Robin offers, folds them and places them in his shirt pocket. “Try not to miss me too much.” 

Will sniggers, mumbling under his breath; “won’t be an issue.” 

Alan hums, purposefully walking the long way around the table so he can tap the back of Will’s head. “You can buy your own damn vodka next time.” 

The group laughs as Will rubs the back of his head, scowling. 

“He’ll only be a few minutes,” Brian predicts, knowing his friend is more likely to go to the closest off-license with less choice, rather than the supermarket further down the road with more of a selection. “I’ll go grab us some clean glasses.” 

Robin looks around the warehouse, the home-from-home he never seems to leave. They’ve made it a bit homely; put in a round table, mismatched chairs, a sofa, rugs, lamps, a mini fridge, and a few other furnishings. It’s still a room of concrete underneath it all, but it’s not as impersonal as it once was. It makes do for what they need; a place away from everything else where Robin can research what occurs in his dreams with his group of friends. 

John Little has been his best friend since school, his name completely belying his large character - and stature - Robin’s not quite sure what he’d do without him. Brian Tuck was a member of the church before he was excommunicated for his drunk and disorderly conduct - he gave up on being sober years ago, and still enjoys a good drink now and then. Alan Dale - Brian’s cousin - also loves a drink, and puts his past musical background to good use when beating all his crew at karaoke. Mitch Millerson is just a teenager, having lost both his parents in a tragic accident two years ago, he’s been taken in as an unofficially adopted family member - and despite every reason not to be, he’s the friendliest of the whole bunch. And then there’s Will Scarlett, Robin’s step-brother, with whom he has a love-hate relationship; lately they’ve been getting on well, and he’s become somewhat of a permanent fixture in the team. 

Robin’s proud of the group he calls family. They’re a strong team unit that supports one another through all the tough times, from internal battles like alcohol and grief, to external conflicts like bar fights and unhealthy relationships, they’ve all leant on each other and come out the other end as stronger people.

When Robin had told them about his dreams, it had been John who suggested he pursue it until he found answers - the others had offered their support without hesitation. 

That is why the situation they’re in now is so frustrating; they’ve done everything they can to help, and yet lately they’ve gotten nowhere. Robin’s stuck pawing over the map of everything they’ve stuck to the two cork boards on the wall, and the rest of the papers they have scattered over the table.

Alan can not come back with drinks soon enough; Robin’s sure he needs at least three glasses to properly unwind and relax. 

As if on cue, the metal gate clangs and the sound of enthused humming fills the air. 

Alan appears through the doorway, brandishing a wide grin and a doubled up, plastic bag letting off a tell-tale clinking sound. “I come bearing gifts.”

It’s not long before all of them are brandishing their own drinks, sipping whilst exchanging banter and jokes with laughter echoing throughout the room. 

Robin smiles, this is more like it. 

Mitch calls out to him, and Robin turns his head towards him, preparing to receive whatever jovial insult he’s thought of. But then Robin’s head spins, and though he can see Mitch’s mouth moving, his ears just pick up slurred noises. He closes his eyes, tries to focus, and it works for long enough to hear: “Blimey,  _ someone _ can’t hold their drink… he’s barely had one glass…”

“You alright there, mate?” John asks, standing from his seat and walking around to where Robin is sitting

“Yeah, I’m just…  _ really _ tired all of a sudden,” Robin answers, still fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Have a lie down mate.” 

Robin nods. That’s probably a good idea.

He stands and takes a step towards the sofa behind him, but then the world goes black and he tumbles forwards into nothingness...

…

_ His eyes blink open, and he’s standing in a cave again - the same one he’s seen countless times before.  _

_ There’s someone talking behind him, but it’s only when he really focuses on the voice that he realises what they’re calling is actually his name.  _

_ Robin’s breath catches in his throat. This has never happened before. He’s always been an outsider, standing to one side as everything happened around him, unable to do anything but watch. But this is… This one is real. It’s not an abstract event some time in the future; it’s a definitive moment in *his* future. _

_ “Robin?”  _

_ He turns to find the source of the voice, and his eyes fall upon perhaps a dozen people, all crowded at the entrance to the cave. Half of them are brand new to him, complete strangers that he’d probably pass in the street without realising their significance. The other half, however, are the group of friends he’s come to think of as his own little team. _

_ “We’re ready.” _

_ Confusion clouds his ability to think straight. What the hell is going on? “Ready?”  _

_ One of the strangers - a brunette woman with a pixie cut - smiles at him. “We’re going to save the world.”  _

_ “Well, *she* is,” John comments, then inclines his head towards another one of the strangers standing to one side. A woman, brunette, with her head in a book. She looks up at him, her gaze meeting Robin’s, and he has never seen such emotions in one glance before. It worries him. Despite the fact he’s never met this woman before, he’s scared for her. And judging by the looks between the crew behind her, he has every reason to be.  _

_ “How long do we have?”  _

_ Her voice is grim and solemn as she answers: “not long enough.”  _

…

Robin’s eyes snap open, his torso lifting off of the sofa he swears he didn’t quite get to as he tries to come to terms with what just happened. 

John sits next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You passed out, mate. You okay?”

Robin still can’t form words, replaying his dream - if he should even call them that anymore - in his head.

John must have noticed, and even though he already knows the answer, still asks: “You saw something new didn’t you?” 

Robin nods, taking a deep breath to try and get his thoughts in order. “I was  _ there _ ,” he utters. “We  _ all _ were.” 

Shaking himself out of his shock, Robin stands and heads over to the table, grabbing a piece of scrap paper to write down as many details as he can remember. 

“We were at the cave,” he explains. “All of us. And there were a handful of other people too.” 

“Did you recognise them?” 

“No.” 

Robin tries to remember what they looked like, but can barely remember their features at all. And the harder he thinks about them, the more they fade away. 

But the other woman, the one with the book and the scared eyes, Robin remembers her face like he’s seen her every day of his life. 

“There was a woman there, she was going to save the world.”

Robin grabs another bit of scrap paper and starts sketching her face, the shoulder length hair, the dark eyes, the scar on her top lip...

The team all leans over the table to get a glance at Robin’s drawing, both Alan and Brian asking: “who is she?”

“I don’t know,” Robin answers honestly. “But she said we didn’t have enough time.”

“Time for what?” 

“That’s when I woke up.” 

An ominous silence falls across the team, all of them looking between each other with apprehension. 

This is not what they were expecting. But still, Alan tries to make the most of it, clapping his hands together and offering: “well... we said we wanted a lead…”

Will snorts. “He has a  _ sketch _ of a woman… the hell are we supposed to do with that?”

Robin looks over his drawing. This woman could be the key to stopping all of this; there was only one thing they  _ could _ do.

“We find her.”


End file.
